


False Alarm

by scepterofstardust



Series: Finish Line [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: And it's Christmas, Andreil, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, I know it's not Christmas yet but IT IS NOW, I swear it's not wholly depressing this time they're holding hands!!, M/M, another idea at 3 am hi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepterofstardust/pseuds/scepterofstardust
Summary: Andrew still has fears, as much as he tries to pretend otherwise. Neil is a bit slow at recognizing them.





	False Alarm

 

Andrew Minyard does not panic.

 

Maybe it has happened, of course, but he prefers to pretend it hasn't. He's blocked it out now, as best he could. It's nothing but a foggy, vague feeling of _wrong._

But unless it is absolutely vital, he does not loose control. He does not let his unconcerned view of the world slip. He feels more than he once did, now that the drugs are gone, but he still steers himself precisely and does not do things clumsily.

 

He does not, unless it's Neil. Because Neil has always been the exception to all of his rules. It's irritating, actually.

 

It's winter when it happens. Snow had fallen the night before, and it was at least thirty below, forcing them to burrow under several blankets in the apartment Neil and Andrew shared. Andrew wakes somewhere in the hours after the sun went down. His mind is sluggish, and it takes a moment for the bedroom to come into focus around him. 

 

And then, he realizes that Neil is not next to him.

 

He is instantly wide awake, alert, scanning the apartment and listening for sounds of movement. He determines quickly that no one else is inside. _Neil_ is not inside. His eyes fly to the clock.

 

1:56 am. Too early. Neil's alarm always went off at 6 am, without fail. Only then would he get up, make coffee, and go to practice. Something isn't right. 

 

A feeling sparks in Andrew's chest as he throws off the blankets and strides into the front room. A feeling that is wrong, uncomfortable, uncontrollable. He searches urgently for a note, for any indication of where Neil could have gone. He checks his phone. There's no texts or voicemails.

 

_Something isn't right._

He stops by the door. Neil's keys are still hanging on their hook, but his bag is not. His bag, with practice clothes, with equipment, with his transportation cards, that he always leaves in the exact same place. The same bag he used to keep locked in a safe with his blood money and all his secrets.

 

Andrew can't breathe.

 

Neil would never do this. Neil would not leave the keys to their home behind. They were his most important possession. And he would _definitely_ not leave without telling Andrew.

 

The feeling hurts now, hot and sick inside his chest. His heartbeat accelerates without his permission. Suddenly, the memories in his mind demand to be paid attention, even though they haven't mattered in quite some time.

 

He remembers that Neil had spent his life flitting from town to town, wearing new faces, different eyes, names piling on top of each other and threatening to peel off. He remembers the hushed emotion in Neil's voice, the horror stuffed away where it wouldn't be seen, when he said,

 

_Thank you for everything._  

 

Just before he'd been taken away, had almost been snuffed out for good like a candle's flame at the mercy of someone else.

 

Neil had promised to stay and fight, but that struggle was supposed to be over. Andrew wasn't supposed to worry that he'd leave.

 

But Neil had always been the exception to all of his rules.

 

Before he decides to, Andrew's snatched his keys off the coffee table and slammed the door behind him. He stumbles down the stairs, and it takes him three tries to call Neil's number. The dial tone drags itself out, each second worse than the last. He reaches the bottom and has one hand on the door when he hears Neil's voice.

 

Not from his phone, from the hallway behind him. He turns, (not frantically, because he _does not_ do that), to see Neil leaning against the wall. His bag dangles from one arm, forgotten, and his face is cast in a blue glow from his phone pressed to his ear.

 

"Yeah," he's saying quietly, "that would...hang on." Neil frowns. "Someone else is calling, give me a second." 

 

Andrew strides towards him, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

 

The feeling in him dulls, sighs in relief because Neil is here, Neil is _safe_ , but then it swells and slams against him and Andrew thinks he's scowling.

 

Neil looks up at the sound of his footsteps, and smiles apologetically. "Yeah, that's fine by me. I have to go now. See you then" Andrew props himself against the wall opposite him, watching silently as he ends the call.

 

"Hey," Neil says sheepishly. "I tried not to wake you up but-"

 

"Back inside," Andrew says tightly, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "Now."

 

"Drew-" Andrew is already turning away, stalking up the staircase without looking back. He hears Neil follow after a startled moment. "Drew, what's wrong?" Andrew doesn't deign to answer until they're both inside the apartment again. He spins on his heel directly in front of Neil, stopping him in his tracks.

 

"There are many things you are, but I didn't take oblivious to be one of them. Why did you do that?" Andrew hisses through his teeth.

 

"Do what?" Neil asks, and he looks genuinely confused, like he hasn't a clue what Andrew's so worked up about. Andrew runs a hand through his hair, pressing his anger down, and his eyes unwittingly land on the spot where Neil's bag was supposed to be. Neil follows his gaze, uncomprehending.

 

After a few moments, his eyes widen, and Andrew knows he's figured it out. Neil looks from the carpet, to the door still slightly ajar, to Andrew's tense jaw.

 

"Oh..." Neil says at last, meeting Andrew's gaze. "Did you...did you think..."

 

"Of course I did," Andrew replies flatly. "You didn't tell me you were leaving." He watches Neil swallow thickly, something like grief settling on his shoulders.

 

"I...I'm sorry, Drew," he says, biting his lip. "I didn't think-"

 

"Yes, you never do," Andrew deadpans. "It's my favorite quality of yours." Neil looks pained, and he opens his mouth, no doubt to apologize again. Andrew won't have it and cuts him off with a theatrical sigh.

 

"It's fine."

 

"That's my line," Neil quips, earning him a faintly amused smirk. "If you won't put up with my nonsense, I won't put up with yours."

 

Andrew lifts his shoulders helplessly, unable to argue. Silently, he digs a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and strides towards the window on the other end of the room. Neil follows, picking up the lighter that always rests on the coffee table. They both sit on the bench in front of the window, and Andrew pushes it open, letting in a burst of cold air. In another moment, he has two cigarettes lit, and he passes one to Neil. They both look out at the swirling snow, barely visible against the inky sky. Christmas music blares distantly from an apartment below them.

 

Neil feels as if he's choking. The words he wants to say, but knows Andrew doesn't want to hear, clog up his airways. Instead of blurting things out, he takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales shakily. The cold from outside burns his cheeks. He studies Andrew out of the corner of his eye. His heart pauses its beating.

 

Andrew's shaking. He's ignoring it, of course he is, but it's there. His hand, draped over one knee, is trembling uncontrollably. 

 

Neil has scared him. Really, truly scared him. A yawning chasm opens up in his chest.

 

Deciding that he deserves any possible consequences, Neil slowly reaches for him. He slides his hand, palm up, under Andrew's fingers. He doesn't squeeze Andrew's hand, doesn't hold it, doesn't move. He gives him ample opportunity to reject the touch, lets him know with relaxed body language that he doesn't mind if he does. 

 

A few agonizing seconds tick by, and Andrew doesn't pull away. He blinks once, twice. The quiver in Andrew's limbs dies down a little. A bit of the tension in Neil loosens.

 

"You know that's impossible, right? That I would leave." Neil says, praying he'll get a yes. Or, Andrew's version of a yes, which would be the use of less evasive language. Andrew chuckles, low in his throat. Smokes curls out into the cold air.

 

"Nothing is impossible, Neil. That's idealistic thinking."

 

"i've never been what I was supposed to be, have I? What makes you think I can't be impossible?" Andrew's eye twitches, just a bit.

"It would be just like you to accept the challenge."

"It would be." 

 

"Neil Josten. Unpredictable, unreal, impossible." Andrew gives the slightest nod of his head. "Sounds heroic." Neil snorts.

 

"Well, I'm not a hero. Let's forget that." He turns towards Andrew as much as he can with their joined hands. "How about a promise. You're fond of those, aren't you?" Andrew raises an eyebrow, indicating for him to continue. Neil looks directly into his eyes and steels himself. For all their banter, for all Andrew's meticulous apathy, this was important. He needs Andrew to believe him. He needs Andrew to listen to him, like he always has.

 

"I won't," he says simply. "I won't disappear. I told you I wasn't going anywhere when you called me a pipe dream. It still applies. It always will." Andrew stares at him, not moving, not even blinking. 

 

"I'm not going to vanish in the night, Drew," he says quietly. "I'm not going to run, ever again." Neil prides himself on not allowing his voice to crack. "I am not going anywhere without you." There's a brief, terrible silence, and for a moment he thinks Andrew will find a way to refute his words. But the corner of his mouth tugs up, and he huffs out a laugh.

 

"Of course you aren't. If you did, I would have your head." Neil looks down at Andrew's hand in his, relief cooling the churning in his stomach.

 

"I would let you have it."

 

"Of course you would. You court death every chance you get."

 

"Ah, but I've changed." Neil shrugs. "I think you're stuck with me now." He sees a ghost of amusement in Andrew's eyes.

 

"That's unfortunate."

 

"Is it really?" Neil retorts. "I thought you liked my company."

 

"Well, it's more enjoyable now that you aren't trying to get yourself executed every five minutes."

 

"I suppose." Neil manages a cheeky smile, and Andrew scowls. Silence ensues, more comfortable than before. Neil feels like there's finally enough oxygen in the room again. Andrew flicks away a snowflake that lands in his hair, and the music below changes to an upbeat saxophone. A female voice croons. Something about being merry, or white, or blue, Neil supposes. He'd never paid much attention to Christmas.

 

"You know, right? You know that that's the truth." Andrew blinks as if he's forgotten Neil was there. His response is delayed.

 

"I do. I'm not quite as slow as you are."

 

"Maybe...just a bit."

 

"Hush, Neil." Andrew sounds exasperated, but his hand twitches, dangerously close to wrapping around Neil's fingers.

 

"Mm...no." Neil shoots back. Andrew sighs deeply.

 

"You're insufferable."

 

"You love it."

 

Andrew's not able to protest to that (he is, after all, sitting in the apartment they share), so he falls quiet once more. In his peripheral vision, he sees Neil is shivering in his t-shirt.

 

It was cold. He hadn't even noticed. Their cigarettes were almost burned to nothing, smoke whirling away in the winter wind.

 

Neil tugs on his hand gently.

 

"Drew, it's cold. We should go back to bed." 

 

Andrew can't bring himself to move at first. He would never admit it, but he doesn't want Neil to move even an inch farther away from him, doesn't want to let him out of his sight. He's being ridiculous, though, because Neil keeps his promises, and he's not going to cease to exist in the sixteen feet to their bed.

 

So he nods absentmindedly, and shuffles to stand. Neil leans forward and pulls the window shut. The music outside turns muffled, and Neil leads him by the hand across the room. The only sound in the apartment is the blankets rustling as they climb back underneath them. Neil closes his eyes as soon as his head hits the pillow, but he feels Andrew's gaze on him. He opens them again to see his boyfriend openly staring, eyes glassy and far away. 

 

"What?" Neil whispers. 

 

"Nothing," Andrew mumbles. His grip on his hand tightens. Neil laughs sleepily, eyes fluttering shut again.

 

"Yeah, okay." Andrew kicks lightly at his leg.

 

After a few minutes, Neil feels himself drifting off.

 

"Merry Christmas, Drew," he murmurs against his pillow. A moment later, he drops into sleep, but he could've sworn he heard Andrew chuckle.

 

He wakes to the world covered in white, and Andrew's hand in his.

 

It's his first holiday without catastrophe, and it's perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry that this is kind of another sad one, lol. Feel free to scream at me in the comments.
> 
> tumblr: scepterofstardust  
> twitter: lunatic_yoongi


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